Authors: Deirdre Martin
Tags: #Women lawyers, #Contemporary, #Legal, #General, #Romance, #Hockey players, #Fiction
Icebreaker (16 page)
Adam glanced at her with concern. “We were only in Maxie’s a minute, but you really looked like you were being tortured.”
“I get migraines,” Sinead confessed. “That’s what happened the other night. Sometimes they can be brought on by too much noise and stale air.”
Adam looked at her sympathetically. “One of my teammates in Tampa got migraines. There were a couple of times he had to leave in the middle of a game. He even missed a playoff game because of one.”
“I can’t imagine how hard it would be to play a game with a migraine.” She shuddered at the thought. “There are times the pain is so bad I can’t even move my head.”
Why are you telling him this? He’s going to think you’re sickly.
Why are you telling him this? He’s going to think you’re sickly.
“Ever try acupuncture?”
“I didn’t figure you for an alternative-therapy type,” Sinead said, surprised.
Adam looked bemused. “What type did you figure me for?”
“The type who’s never had any physical ailment or weakness in his life.”
“I’ve never known anyone who’s been that lucky. Professional athletes are actually willing to try any kind of treatment to get over injuries. I’ve hurt my back a few times, and acupuncture really helped. Maybe you should check it out.”
“I’ll stick to my pharmaceuticals, thank you.”
Moron, now he probably thinks you’re a drug addict
.
Moron, now he probably thinks you’re a drug addict
.
They arrived at Basilica. The place was small, with stuccoed walls and seven tables of varying size, if that. There looked to be a cast of regulars at the bar; it reminded Sinead of her parents’ pub. Thankfully, it wasn’t too crowded.
They were seated at a table for two in the back. A very small table. Sinead could feel her knees touching Adam’s. The lighting was low, too. The atmosphere was, well, romantic. She wondered if Adam thought, too. Not that it mattered.
“Can I get you folks anything to drink?” asked a blond, blue-eyed waiter with a heavy Eastern European accent.
“Would you like to get a bottle of wine?” Adam asked.
“I can’t drink wine because of my headaches,” Sinead said with an apologetic wince.
God, he must think I’m a pill. A stick in the mud. Can’t do this, can’t do that
.
God, he must think I’m a pill. A stick in the mud. Can’t do this, can’t do that
.
“Sorry. My buddy in Tampa couldn’t, either. Forgot about that. So what would you like?”
“Martini,” she told the waiter. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. It was disturbing.
“Martini for the lady,” said Adam, “and a Peroni for me.”
“Very good, sir. Would you like to see a menu?”
Sinead hesitated. Truth be told, she was starving, which was part of the reason she had a mild headache before going to meet Adam. But if he wasn’t going to eat anything, then she’d just suck it up. “I wouldn’t mind something,” Adam said to her.
“Me, neither.”
“The special pasta tonight is Ravioli Bolognese,” said the waiter. “And we also have some very nice Veal Francese.”
“I’ll have the ravioli,” said Sinead. As soon as she said it, she realized they were not just meeting for drinks; they were having a meal together. That required a lot of legal chitchat.
Shit
.
Shit
.
“I’ll have the ravioli, too,” said Adam.
“Very good,” said the waiter, disappearing.
Sinead splayed her hands on the table. “What have you got for me?”
“I don’t know if it will help, but ...” Adam dug into the frayed satchel he’d slung over the arm of the chair, pulling out three photo albums.
“What’s this?” Sinead asked, intrigued. She hadn’t seen albums like this in ages. Everyone stored his or her pictures digitally now.
Adam looked uncomfortable. “Fan letters, some dating back as far as when I was in juniors. I saved the best ones.”
Sinead carefully opened the first album. Unfortunately, she could barely read a thing in this damn low light. Her nose was practically touching the page as she intently perused the pages. She knew immediately that she’d hit absolute pay dirt. “Dear Adam, you’ve always been my hero . . .” “Dear Adam, thank you so much for visiting my son Dean in the hospital. It meant so much to him. Unfortunately, he died last week . . .” “Dear Adam, Thank you for your donation toward the new wing of our hospital. Thanks to you, research on spinal cord injury . . .” Pages and pages of thanks, hero worship, even a letter from Ray’s parents. “You’re like a son to us, and always will be. Please stop beating yourself up over what happened . . .”
Sinead looked up at him, moved. “These are amazing.”
Adam looked uncomfortable.
“Why did you save them?”
“To remind myself I’m more than just an asshole who crippled his best friend,” Adam replied bitterly.
“Adam . . .” Sinead snaked her hand across the table to squeeze his. He actually looked vulnerable. She was fully prepared for him to pull away, but he didn’t. They sat there in silence, their eyes not quite meeting. “These are going to be incredibly helpful if we have to go to court,” she said softly.
Adam looked pained. “I thought so.”
“I really appreciate you sharing them with me,” she murmured, heartfelt. “I know it must have been hard for you.”
Adam forced a smile, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’ll have them scanned and get them back to you as soon as I can,” Sinead promised, removing her hand.
“Right. Appreciate it.”
Dinner was awkward
at first. Once Adam put away the letters and they stopped talking about his case, the only place to go next was their personal lives. Adam seemed genuinely interested when she told him how she came to practice law. Still, she worried she might be boring him, as it wasn’t the most riveting tale in the world: She’d wanted a profession that would be high-powered, challenging, and paid well. End of story. She didn’t have a calling the way he or Quinn did. She was envious.
at first. Once Adam put away the letters and they stopped talking about his case, the only place to go next was their personal lives. Adam seemed genuinely interested when she told him how she came to practice law. Still, she worried she might be boring him, as it wasn’t the most riveting tale in the world: She’d wanted a profession that would be high-powered, challenging, and paid well. End of story. She didn’t have a calling the way he or Quinn did. She was envious.
Adam asked about her family, pointing out that she knew all about his, so it was only fair she fill him in on the O’Brien clan. But Sinead couldn’t escape the feeling that his interest went beyond simply wanting an equitable exchange of information. There was something about the way he was looking at her that betrayed him. As he slowly let his guard slip, she realized it was desire. She was confused.
He’s the one who kissed you, not the other way around,
a little voice in her head reminded her. But another little voice reminded her that he was also the one who thought it best they pretend the kiss had never happened. He was sending mixed signals, and neither she nor her little voices knew what to make of it.
He’s the one who kissed you, not the other way around,
a little voice in her head reminded her. But another little voice reminded her that he was also the one who thought it best they pretend the kiss had never happened. He was sending mixed signals, and neither she nor her little voices knew what to make of it.
Eventually, they found themselves back out on the street. The mixed signals issue was really eating at her. Sinead decided to be blunt.
“Were we just on a date?” she asked.
If the answer is no,
she thought,
I’m going to dig a hole in the ground right here and jump into it.
If the answer is no,
she thought,
I’m going to dig a hole in the ground right here and jump into it.
Adam scratched his cheek. “Do you think we were?”
Sinead blew out an exasperated breath. “You define it. You’re the one who said the kiss in my office never happened. You tell me.”
Adam paused thoughtfully. “I think it started out as business and then turned into a date.”
“Was karaoke a date?”
“It could have been if you didn’t run into your building like you were being pursued by Satan,” Adam said wryly.
“I had a headache.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
Sinead ignored the challenge to her veracity, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. “I’m confused. Are we now acknowledging that the kiss happened? And if we are dating, what does that mean?”
“You think too much, you know that?”
Before Sinead could protest, Adam’s mouth was on hers, burning hot with equal parts need and desire. He pulled her to him as Sinead twined her arms around his neck, taking in his taste, reveling in the feel of being in a man’s arms after so long. She could easily devour him, but she held back. She did not want to look desperate, even though that’s how she felt: desperate for
him
. Oliver once accused her of living half a life. It was true. She wanted a full life. One with work and a husband and a child. She wanted it all.
him
. Oliver once accused her of living half a life. It was true. She wanted a full life. One with work and a husband and a child. She wanted it all.
There was reluctance in his eyes as he tore his mouth from hers. Sinead wondered if she should invite him to her place for coffee. No. Too forward. At least for her. She was out of practice. She’d screw things up.
Realizing she wasn’t going to ask him inside, Adam eventually asked her what her schedule was like.
I work seven days a week,
she thought.
I work and work to fill the hole inside me where a family should be. I work to prove I’m as good as any male attorney in this city.
But pleasant warmth wrapped around her at his question. It meant he wanted to see her again.
she thought.
I work and work to fill the hole inside me where a family should be. I work to prove I’m as good as any male attorney in this city.
But pleasant warmth wrapped around her at his question. It meant he wanted to see her again.
Sinead hesitated. “It can be complicated. How about I call you?”
Adam didn’t look happy. “Okay.” He handed his satchel over to her.
“Thank you for trusting me with these,” Sinead murmured. “I mean it.”
“No prob.”
He called a cab for her, then kissed her again briefly as she slid into the backseat.
“Don’t work too hard,” he said.
“You, either.”
She watched him stroll off as the cab pulled away from the curb. They’d dined together. They’d kissed. He said it was kind of, sort of, a date. And still her mind felt muddled. She’d call Maggie and ask if she could stop by after work to talk. She needed her sister.
“Hi.”
Maggie looked pleased as she ushered Sinead inside. Sinead had phoned her the minute she’d gotten home from her “date” with Adam, asking if she could stop by. She was surprised when Maggie invited her over for dinner the next night, sounding excited as she explained it would just be the two of them: Brendan was taking Charlie over to his uncle Joe’s, allowing them some real, uninterrupted girl talk. Sinead was relieved; that was exactly what she needed.
Sinead ducked her head uncertainly as Maggie took her coat. “Brendan doesn’t feel like I’m driving him out, does he?”
“Don’t be crazy. This was his idea.”
“Good.”
Maggie motioned for Sinead to follow her through to the kitchen at the back of the old house. It was a small Victorian that Brendan was in the process of renovating himself.
“Sorry the place is such a wreck.”
“It’s not,” said Sinead, sitting at the kitchen table. “This kitchen is pretty big.”
“It is,” Maggie agreed. She opened the fridge. “I’ve got the fixings for a Greek salad. I’ve also got some hummus and baba ghanouj, too. That okay?”
“More than okay.”
“Good.” The minute Maggie began pulling the food out of the fridge, Sinead jumped up to help.
“Neenee, sit down,” Maggie admonished. “It’s just a few things.”
Sinead shrugged. “Okay.”
“Mom sure trained us well,” Maggie said dryly.
“You got that right.”
Sinead watched Maggie deftly cut up the salad. Nimble hands, the same hands she used as a massage therapist before she gave it up to stay home with Charlie. Sinead knew money was tight for her sister now that she was home full-time. Maybe it was time to offer some help. She knew Brendan was a proud man, but this wasn’t a gift from a stranger. It was family.
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